My Queen
by melanoradrood
Summary: Prompt: Queen Lydia with Pydia. Drabble by request via Tumblr for alphasgoingtoalpha. Pydia. One Shot / Drabble. Complete. AU. Mature Rating due to not telling read it.


"Lord Hale, if you cannot hold your tongue, I will surely see it sliced from your mouth, and sewn to your hand, so that you may learn properly when it is _not_ time to speak."

"Of course, your Grace," his honey-sweet voice purred, watching her with blue eyes.

The Queen didn't even bother to glance over towards him, attention instead on Stilinski as he explained the changes being done to the layout of the city around her. He was attentive to the details and Lydia nodded, keeping up with him. Everything met her approval, so she looked towards Mahealani, the accountant from Italy that knew_ exactly_ how to spend her money properly.

"And we have the funds for all of this? No raisings of taxes, things will be shifted, there will be no uprisings…"

"No, your Grace. It will put a slight dent into the Royal Treasury, but the Argents have once again chosen to give to the _general cause_," She snorted at that, knowing that what it meant was bribery for Lydia to not come after them for what _really_ happened in their walls, "allowing you more than enough to complete the project. Trade will increase with these changes, and it will more than pay for the next project."

Pressing her lips together for a moment, she nodded then turned towards Lahey, the one that had designed all of it. Who would have ever guessed that McCall's squire would have turned out to have such an artistic hand? He sketchings rivaled even Lydia's, when she took the moment to work on her art. His plans, layouts, building designs were all beautiful and put every inch of space to good use.

"And do you have the numbers, Master Lahey?"

The boy still fumbled with his confidence but nodded his head, handing the papers over. She glanced at them, then passed them to Stilinski knowing that he would take care of it all.

"That will be enough for today, Gentlemen. I have a meeting with the Council this evening, and will tell them all that has been decided here."

All men in attendance bowed, before turning to leave. She waited until they were almost all out the door before speaking once more. "Not you, Lord Hale." Her tone was covered in ice, and she saw them all freeze for a moment, then scamper away save for the man she had much to discuss with.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this, my- McCall." It was still so odd, calling the man that was supposed to be their king by his name instead, or even occasionally his title. She had never thought that she would be the one sitting in this chair, never thought that the crown would rest upon her head. When the war had begun, with Lord Peter Hale claiming the throne, she had quickly thrown her support behind Scott McCall. Oh how things had changed.

"I understand that, your Grace, but Peter Hale made his choice some time ago. When the mad king died without an heir, there was a number of people with equally strong claims. There was supposed to be talks, decisions, and the one with the best.. it wasn't supposed to turn into war."

She knew that. Knew how things were supposed to go. Derek Hale, Peter's nephew, had even been considered, but the bastard son of a man long dead had chosen to fight it instead. She knew that so many had died for this loss, but she was sick of the bloodshed. Peter's supporters still existed, and she would not allow this to continue.

"I refuse to make a martyr of him. I won't strengthen their cause. They will rally behind Derek next." Derek looked up from where he had been silent, eyes wide, and glanced for anyone else to speak. He might have had a strong claim towards the throne, but he never wanted the power. "I know, Hale. You don't want it. You're trusted at this table."

Everyone murmured agreement, knowing that for Derek Hale to turn on his uncle had come at a heavy price, and he seemed to settle down. Across the other side of the table sat one Argent, the only one to ever sit at a Council table, and would quickly disappear behind the scenes once this was all done. They had ever been a neutral party, having their own… battles to fight.

"Then lock him away, and throw away the key. He won't become a martyr, but a symbol of what becomes of those that stand against you. Pardon the rest, but leave him to rot." Allison's words were honest, and right, but Lydia still pressed her lips together. She didn't like it. Didn't like any of it.

"He may be a traitor, but he's also one of the strongest men any of us have ever met. He gets things done with no qualms about what's good and evil, and he can see things from all sides. Leaving him to rot would be a waste." Bless Stilinski for, for once, actually voicing an opinion that made sense. Lydia said nothing, taking that into consideration as well, until one voice she had not expected to hear came up.

"Give him a choice."

Lydia glanced over towards the man, boy, standing behind Scott's chair. His young squire, Lahey, never spoke, and she studied him for a moment. He suddenly shut up, as if remembering the company he was in, but Lydia rose from her chair and moved towards him. "Say that again."

"Well, you all say that he should be punished, but not killed, and you say his knowledge is invaluable, but he can't be trusted. Give him a choice. Make sure everyone knows it's his choice. He can choose to be used by your Grace, or be locked away."

No one said anything for a moment as all eyes turned towards Lydia. She was frozen where she stood, considering this for a moment. This was it. Her first actual decision as Queen. The first one that would really matter. She was never meant for this throne, although her claim was stronger than most. It was only because of Scott's love for Allison Argent that he had stepped aside and crowned her instead, and Lydia knew that this was the moment it started to matter.

"Any opposed?"

Her voice was even, and no one spoke. She had tried to keep everything equal between them, with she being the deciding vote, and this was it. She glanced up towards the guards, then towards Derek who was in charge of the prisoner at the time. "Bring me Peter Hale in chains."

"Must you insist on continuing to push me?" Lydia hissed. "I am your Queen, Peter Hale. I gave you a pardon. I gave you rooms and servants. I have given you everything that you would have never offered to my party had you won, and yet, you continue to press. It is as though you would rather bite the hand that feeds rather than simply enjoying what is offered, more than your share might I add!"

"Your Grace, if I may-"

"You. May. Not."

Her words came out in a hiss, and with a twirl of her skirts, she moved around the table and past him. They did have a Council meeting in the near future, and this would not be the first time she had yelled at him as they moved from one room to another. He was quick on her heels, of course, but she knew that turning her back to him was safe. There were guards both in front of and behind her, and they were far faster than Peter was even in his younger age.

"You must learn your place, Lord Hale. You are my servant. Yes, you are a lord, and you have certain privileges. You are second in this kingdom to none but me. You will remember, however, that you are second to me. You bow when I say bow. You nod when I say nod. And if-"

She turned in spot, then, making the guards halt and Peter almost run into her. Her hand rose and one finger pointed at him while her eyes thinned. "And_ if_ I tell you to hold your tongue, then you will _bloody well hold your tongue. _Understood?"

The man took a step back but quickly regathered himself and bowed his head slightly. She waited for him to speak, and he finally did, head still bowed. "Of course, _my Queen_."

She tried to ignore the way that he said that as she continued to move through the castle. Silence surrounded them as they moved through the Great Hall and into the receiving room. No one else dared to speak to her, instead bowing low as she walked past, anger clearly written on her face.

"It is as though you want for me to kill you! Is that what you want? Or are you trying to test my patience?" Lydia knew that her voice could be heard outside these four walls and into the great room, but she continued on until eventually reaching the Council room. The doors were opened for her and the guards stopped, allowing just Lydia and Peter Hale to go inside. "If you think that I will not still take your head, then you strongly underestimate me."

The doors closed as Peter shut them, and she heard the guards moving away to outside of the receiving room. In this Council room, she knew that no one could overhear them, that they were tucked away from other voices and listening ears. The castle was filled with secret passageways, but the only passage attached to this room was one that could only be accessed _from_ this room, the other side only opened from within. No one could hear what was about to occur.

Lydia was picked up and pressed against the wall before she could even draw another breath. Her legs were wrapped around the man's waist and her skirts were pulled up quickly, as if nothing else mattered but reaching what was underneath. Lips and tongue and teeth went to her throat and she buried her fingers into his hair, back arching slightly to give him better access.

"Anything for you, _my queen_," he murmured against her throat. His hands were starting to work at the laces underneath her clothes, keeping her most private areas away from him. Her eyes fluttered shut and she let him have his way, even as his kisses and nips trailed lower across the tops of her breasts to every inch that he could reach.

"Never call me that outside our private rooms again," she said with a soft moan attached at the end. "My legs almost gave out right there. Do it again, and I'll take your head, and not the one attached to your shoulders."

He pressed the head she was talking about against her exposed center, and then she was reaching down to quickly release him, her fingers deftly working at laces that she was experienced by now at pulling apart.

"As you wish, _my queen_."

She let out another groan as he became free of his own clothing, and then he was within, making her gasp out as his lips finally covered hers.

"You have two options, darling," she hummed that day, leaning forward towards him. "You can either take me as your Queen, swear me your fealty, bestow all of your lands and titles to me, and live a life that most would call fortunate. Or, you can continue to fight me, fight the things that you know you need, and lose it all. Which will it be?"

Peter Hale had let his head hang for a moment, and then he looked up at her, the girl, no, the woman that he had deflowered years earlier. Her husband had been… unable to perform, and her first time at court, their eyes had caught one another. Their affair had been brief, but it had been hot, filled with passion and lust, and that fire would never, in Lydia's opinion, burn out. Jackson had died a few short months after they had begun in a jousting tournament against the man that was now before her. Lydia suspected that it was not an accident.

"_My Queen_," he replied, bowing his head. Lydia's chin rose as she put on a false smile, a false triumphant smile, but inside, she had melted. He had murmured those words to her long ago, telling her how he would take the throne, how he would make her his wife, and she would one day be Queen. He had murmured those words as he had made her writhe beneath him, and in the almost tender moments that they had held each other afterwards.

By the end of the day, Peter Hale was in attire far better than he had ever worn before, wearing the Queen's seal, and sitting beside her at the Queen's table.

"You have two options, darling," Lydia hummed as he took her against that wall. One hand was still wrapped up in his hair, while the other was holding his hand, fingers interlocked. "You can either take me like this and live a life most fortunate. Or you can continue to fight me, and you may lose it all. Which will it be?"

Peter didn't answer for a moment, his face currently buried against her throat and his eyes shut, and she felt herself tighten around him as he pressed in harder. His free hand was still under her ass to hold her up as he took her against the wall, and she waited, needing to hear his answer.

"You, Lydia. All I want is you."

She felt her toes curl and a gasp escaped her as she found her peak, and then his lips were covering hers to muffle both their cries. It took her a moment, as they held onto each other, before she finally replied.

"You will always have me."


End file.
